


Two Crows and a Nighthawk

by Novakri



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Antiva, Antivan Crows, Elves, F/M, M/M, Mages and Templars, Multi, Porn With Plot, Post-Dragon Age: Origins, Sexy Zevran, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2017-01-28
Packaged: 2018-09-11 07:31:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8968477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Novakri/pseuds/Novakri
Summary: The blight is over. Jaim Amell is the hero of Fereldan, having performed the dark ritual with his lover, Morrigan. The wardens have sent him to be Warden-Commander of Amaranthine, but some of his companions from the blight have other plans.Fendaris Mahariel and Zevran have decided that the Crows need to be dealt with. On their way to Antiva, however, their path is complicated when they run into Rena Surana, one of Jaim's few friends at the Circle of Magi.Rena has waited a long time for her chance to escape the Tower. Her escape was planned, but the following events, not so much. She certainly wasn't expecting to accidentally stow away on a pirate ship, and then run into two attractive elves on their way to take over an international assassin's guild...No real idea where this came from, or where it's going, but it should be interesting to find out.





	1. Chapter 1

The Blight was over.  
Rena Surana pressed her face against the small window overlooking the lake. A messenger was relaying the full details to Irving and Greagoir now, but the main part of his news had already spread through the Tower like wildfire. The archdemon was dead, killed by their own, Jaim Amell. The mages who had joined the wardens in the final battle would be arriving back any day now, along with the heartfelt thanks of the new King, Alistair.  
Rena should have been rejoicing. She should have been on her knees giving thanks to the Maker that the Blight had been defeated. Instead, she was plotting her next move.  
There would be a celebration for the returned mages. Not even the Templars could deny the mages that, as much as Greagoir would rail against it. And since the king intended to accompany the mages back to Kinloch Hold, it could very well be that the celebration would be on the grounds outside the Tower. There couldn’t possibly be enough room in the Tower for whatever escort the king brought with him. At least, not in the habitable areas of the Tower.  
“Rena!” Rena glanced away from the glass at the sound of one of the child apprentices calling her name. She smiled at the little elf girl running towards her. Although she had been a full mage for months now, passing her Harrowing shortly after Jaim’s conscription, she sometimes missed her time with the apprentices.  
“What is it, Della?” she asked.  
Della bounced, her long braids flying behind her. “Senior Enchanter is calling everyone to meet in the chapel! He has an announcement!”  
Rena smiled gently at the child, but she felt her guts twist. This was the announcement. How she played her cards now could determine her entire future. “Well, then we shouldn’t miss it,” she said. She took Della’s hand. “Shall we?”  
Della eagerly tugged Rena along to the chapel. It was already crowded, but not nearly as much as it once would have been.  
Rena looked around, trying to decide how many mages had been lost over the last few months. First had been Ostagar, although very few mages had been lost there. Then Uldred’s failed rebellion has nearly cut the population of the Tower in half. With more of them gone to fight the archdemon, the chapel was empty in comparison to what it used to be like.  
And those weren’t the only casualties. Rena tried not to think about them, but she couldn’t help it. She was so used to her friends standing beside her.  
Jaim. Jowan. Anders. Niall. Evelyn. All were gone now, leaving only her.  
Jaim was a warden. Niall had died in the rebellion. Jowan and Anders had both fled, and so far had remained uncaught. Evelyn… Rena swallowed, trying to block out the memory.  
She hadn’t been supposed to see Evelyn being taken away for her Harrowing. She hadn’t been supposed to follow. Even a full mage was not supposed to witness an apprentice’s Harrowing. That privilege was reserved for Senior Enchanters.  
She definitely had not been supposed to see Evelyn stripped, tied down, and tortured by a group of Templars.  
Rena suppressed a shudder. She hadn’t been able to do anything. If she had made a sound, the Templars would just have added her torture and humiliation to Evelyn’s. There was nothing she could have done.  
Maybe one day she’d believe that.  
The murmuring among the mages grew louder and then disappeared as Irving entered the room, flanked by Greagoir and a group of Templars and Senior Enchanters. Irving smiled at the assembled mages.  
“Brothers and sisters in the Circle,” he said. “I am sure you have heard the great news, that the Blight has been defeated, and our fellow mages off fighting will soon return to us.”  
There was silence as the mages waited for Irving to continue. This was not the news they were waiting for.  
“King Alistair will accompany the mages back,” Irving continued. “I have been told he has an announcement to make to the Circle. Be that as it may, a celebration will be in order, to welcome our brothers and sisters home and give thanks to the Hero of Fereldan for ending the Blight.”  
Now the whispers started. Rena just waited, her heart in her throat.  
“For security reasons, however,” Irving continued, “only a few mages will be able to attend the royal celebration. I’m sure the celebration in here, however, will have just as much to offer!”  
Now the murmurs broke out in earnest. Rena could hear the disgruntled complaints, the anger and pain, and she could feel the Templar’s eyes on them all. None of the Templars trusted any of the mages who had survived Uldred’s rebellion.  
“If you have any questions, please direct them to Knight-Captain Greagoir or myself,” Irving finished.  
At that, conversation broke out in earnest amongst the mages. Rena remained silent, looking around until she found the person whose eyes were always on her.  
She walked towards him, trying to appear as casual and timid as possible. This was her strength, what she had used to keep herself alive and safe in the Tower all these years. To all appearances, she was a mouse, quiet, timid, and unlikely to cause anyone any trouble.  
“Hello, Cullen,” she said, smiling shyly.  
Once, Cullen would have stammered and blushed before smiling in return, but not now. Something had happened to him during the mage rebellion, and Rena had no desire to find out what. Now, he just eyed her, although he did still flush a little at her shy glance.  
“Rena,” he said. “Can I help you?”  
Rena ducked her head. “I was wondering if you knew who the mages who get to go to King Alistair’s celebration are,” she said softly.  
Cullen frowned. “I don’t think that’s been decided yet,” he said. “Why?”  
Rena looked away, pretending to search for words. “I don’t suppose… could I… would you… do you think I could be one of them?” she ended in a rush.  
Cullen eyed her suspiciously. “Why?”  
Maker’s breath. Of all the times for Cullen to be suspicious.  
“I just… it’s been so long… Cullen, I want to feel grass again,” she managed. It was true longing in her voice. She remembered the feeling of grass beneath her feet. They used to have exercises outside when she was an apprentice, but that had stopped when Anders had made a failed escape attempt by swimming the lake.  
“Grass.” Cullen’s voice was flat.  
“Please, Cullen,” she begged. She hated herself for doing this, but she had no choice. “Just for a little while? I won’t cause any trouble, I promise. I’ll stick by your side the entire time. If you want me there, that is,” she lowered her eyes again. “I wouldn’t mind that. I’d like to spend an evening with you.”  
Now Cullen flushed. “Rena…” he stammered.  
Rena looked up at him through her eyelashes. “Please?” she begged. “Just a few hours? With you?”  
Cullen flushed even redder. “I’ll see what I can do,” he said, then fled down the hall, following the path Knight-Captain Greagoir had taken.  
Rena exited the chapel herself and flung herself into a small alcove, trying to control the bile in her throat. She hated doing that. Once, she might have been tempted to act on Cullen’s obvious attraction to her. She knew the prohibitions about relationships between mages and Templars, of course, but she knew they weren’t strict. But now… now she could barely look at him without seeing Evelyn’s face screaming in pain, Templar helmets and armor flashing as the men held her down.  
Cullen hadn’t been there, as far as Rena knew. But she didn’t think she could ever look at a Templar with desire or even friendship again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Meet Rena Surana, a mage who did not get recruited by the wardens and managed to survive the events of the Broken Tower. She has plans...
> 
> This is the first fanfiction I've ever dared post, so any suggestions and comments are very welcome!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we meet Zevran and Fendaris Mahariel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Explicit Warning.

“Zev!”   
Fendaris, known to most as Fen, moaned as Zevran slowly kissed his way down his body. His hands clutched at the soft mattress. Zevran had given him very firm orders to not touch.   
Zevran chuckled. “Yes, mi amor?”   
Fen groaned as Zevran kissed the inside of his thigh. His head fell back against the bed. “You fucking tease,” he whispered.   
The vibration of Zevran’s laugh so close to Fen’s cock made his gasp and dig his fingers deeper into the mattress.   
“Don’t deny you like this,” Zevran said.   
Fen gritted his teeth. “Zevran,” he said, trying to make his voice harsh and commanding, “I swear, if you don’t,”  
“Ah, ah,” Zevran interrupted, running a finger up and down Fen’s length. Fen moaned at the sudden touch. “Don’t make promises you don’t intend to keep, my warden.”   
A light slap on his hip had Fen looking up again. “On your knees, mi amor.”  
Fen sat up with a shudder, taking a brief moment to admire the view in front of him. Zevran was stunningly handsome. His blonde hair fell loose around his shoulders, framing his tattooed face and wicked eyes. More tattoos swirled lower, decorating his entire body. Fen only knew the stories behind half of them.   
Zevran met his eyes and smiled. “Enjoying the view?”   
Fen grinned. “How could I not?”   
Zevran leaned forward and kissed him hard. Fen returned the kiss with equal fervor, feeling the heat of Zevran’s body next to his own. His cock twitched, and he was breathless when Zevran finally drew back.   
“On your knees,” Zevran said again, his voice just as breathless as Fen felt.   
Fen obeyed, resting on his hands and knees and obeying Zevran’s gentle prodding to spread his legs a little wider.   
Fen waited for Zevran’s touch at his entrance, but Zevran just sat there, not touching him. He looked over his shoulder. “Zev, what are you doing?” he managed.   
Zevran met his eyes and grinned. “What do you want me to do?” he asked.   
Fen groaned and dropped his head again. “Zev.” He didn’t want to beg. Zevran always had him begging far too soon.   
“I could always just leave you like this,” Zevran said in a conversational tone. “I might tie a bar in between your legs, so you can’t close them, however. And tie your hands, so you won’t be tempted to disobey my rule.”   
Fen sucked in a breath, Zevran’s words somehow making him even harder. Just the thought of being bound like that, and left there, painfully hard…  
Zevran’s finger finally teased at his entrance, and Fen cursed himself as a whimper escaped his lips. Zevran didn’t need any more encouragement to torment him.   
He barely refrained from begging as Zevran’s hand withdrew. “Zev…”  
“So, what is it to be, then? Shall I leave you here? Or will you tell me what you want?”   
Fen felt his whole body course in a shudder. “Maker’s Breath, Zevran, please!”   
Zevran’s laugh was infuriating. “Please what, mi amor?”  
Fen groaned again as Zevran’s finger probed once, then withdrew again. “Maker, Zevran… fuck me! Please!”  
“Well, since you ask so nicely,” Fen could hear the smirk in Zevran’s voice. His finger returned again, this time slick with oil. Fen gasped at the intrusion, his arms barely holding him up off the bed.   
“How shall I fuck you, mi amor?” Zevran asked as he inserted another finger. Fen groaned as be began gently scissoring, stretching him out. “Shall I be slow and gentle, whispering sweet endearments to you?”   
Fen whimpered as Zevran’s fingers withdrew slightly, only to moan again as a third finger joined the first two.   
“Or shall I be rough and hard, and fuck you until you know that you are mine? Until the only thing you can do is beg me to let you come?”   
Zevran’s fingers withdrew, only to be replaced with his cock at Fen’s entrance. Fen was shuddering, barely able to refrain from pushing back into him.   
“That one,” he gasped. “Zev, please.”   
Zevran pushed forward slightly, drawing a groan from Fen. “Ask for it.”   
Fen attempted to push back against Zevran’s cock, but he withdrew entirely, leaving Fen feeling open and empty. A strangled sob escaped him. “Please, Zev, fuck me hard,” he begged. “I can’t… please!”   
He cried out as Zevran pushed forward again, this time entering him completely, not pausing until he was seated deep inside of him. “As you wish, mi amor.” Zevran began pounding into him, barely giving Fen time to adjust.   
Fen gasped, his fingers clawing at the mattress beneath him. Zevran stretched him and filled him completely, leaving no room for thought. He changed his angle slightly, and Fen cried out and arched his back at a feeling like lightning shooting through him.   
“Please! Zev, Please!”   
Zevran didn’t answer, his hands digging into Fen’s hips as he continued his brutal pace. Fen wanted more than anything to touch himself, to bring himself over the edge, but he obeyed Zevran’s instructions and kept his hands clenched in the mattress. “Please, Maker, Zevran, I need… I can’t…”   
Zevran slammed into him again, sending more lightning through Fen’s body. “Please what?” he asked. His voice was harsh and breathless.   
Fen moaned. “I need… Zev… please… just… touch me!” he begged.   
Zevran laughed, but his voice was strained. One hand released its death grip on Fen’s hip and reached under him to stroke his cock.   
Fen cried out. He heard roaring in his ears, and all he could see were speckles of light dancing in front of him. Dimly, he was aware of Zevran’s thrusts growing more and more erratic, but he was lost in a spinning haze of gold.   
“Are you all right, mi amor?”   
Fen blinked, gradually becoming aware of the fact that the world had stopped spinning. He had collapsed onto the bed, and Zevran was lying on top of him, gently stroking his hair. He released his breath in a happy sigh.   
“Better than all right, love,” he said. “Maker’s breath, how do you do this to me?”   
Zevran chuckled. “You should never have told me you enjoyed being teased,” he said. “I can do so many things with that.”   
“Such as?”   
Fen felt Zevran’s smile as he kissed the base of his neck. “You’ll find out.”   
Fen groaned as Zev rolled off of him. The assassin was right. Fen should never have told Zevran his weakness.   
He jumped as Zevran lightly slapped his ass. “We should be getting ready though, yes? Did you not want to say farewell to Jaim before heading to the harbor?”   
Fen pushed himself off the bed. “I suppose I have to,” he said. “Maker, he better let me go.”  
Zevran laughed again. “He will have no choice,” he said. “The wardens decided to make him Warden-Commander, not you. He needs to stay here, while I am free to kidnap you to Antiva.”   
Fen rolled his eyes as Zevran threw a bundle of clothes at him. “Is that what you’re doing? Kidnapping me?”   
“Of course!” Zevran struck a pose, still half-naked. “I am seducing you into following me, and once I have you at my mercy, I will ravish you incessantly.”   
Fen laughed as he dressed. “Are you sure I’m not seducing you?”   
Zevran stepped forward suddenly, pulling Fen into a deep kiss. Fen closed his eyes, melting into the strength of Zevran’s embrace.   
He blinked as Zevran pulled back. “I am already yours, mi amor.” Zevran’s voice was low.   
Fen blinked at the sudden surge of emotion. “I love you too, Zev,” he said.   
Zevran smiled at him a moment longer, then clapped his hands. “Well, we should not keep Jaim waiting, though!” he exclaimed. “I still need to drag you down to the harbor!”   
Fen let Zevran drag him through the door and down the hallway.   
“You do know Isabela is a pirate, yes? So you’ll have been kidnapped by pirates! And then I can do all sorts of terrible things to you, my dear warden. Maybe Isabela will help.”   
Fen laughed as one of the servants they passed stared at them, her eyes wide. He could laugh again, now that the blight was over. Now all they had to do was deal with the Crows, and then everything would be right with the world.


	3. Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rena's flight.

Rena took a deep breath to steady herself as Cullen lead her towards the tents of the royal encampment. This was it. This was as good of an opportunity as she was ever going to get. But she had to act casual for now. She couldn’t do anything that would raise Cullen’s, or any other templar’s, suspicions.   
Cullen glanced back at her. “The Knight-Captain says you’re to enjoy the celebration like any other mage,” he said shortly. “Just make sure you’re there for King Alistair’s speech, and then we’ll head back.”   
Rena nodded, trying to look timid and shy. She wished she had a better idea of the order of events. She knew the celebration was supposed to last a few hours, but when during that time was King Alistair supposed to make his speech?   
She turned away from those thoughts as she entered the tent. She would manage. She had to.   
The tent was huge, and it was nearly full of people. Mages, many of whom Rena recognized, and nobles mingled, grabbing food and drink from long tables arranged on the far side of the tent. Templars lined the edges of the tent, but their expressions varied between bored and wanting to join in the celebration. Apparently, this group of mages had proven themselves against the archdemon.   
The tall, blonde man in the center of the tent was the focus of everyone’s attention. Rena recognized him instantly, although he had been in plain armor and far more scruffy looking the last time she had seen him. Alistair, the bastard son of King Maric, and now King of Ferelden. Put on the throne by Jaim…  
Rena looked around. She didn’t really expect Jaim to be here. He had absolutely hated the Circle, and she could not see him returning here for any reason short of another blight.   
She smiled when, instead of Jaim, she caught sight of another familiar face. “Wynne!” she exclaimed, pushing her way through the crowd towards the older mage.   
Wynne’s face lit up in a smile as she saw Rena. “Rena! How’s my favorite former apprentice doing?”   
Rena smiled. “Still studying,” she said. “There’s just so much to learn!”   
Wynne laughed. “You haven’t changed, my dear.”   
Rena cocked her head to look more closely at Wynne. “You have,” she said slowly. It was hard to pin down exactly what was different about Wynne. She looked more tired, certainly, but there was also an inner glow that seemed different from her normal vibrant energy.   
Wynne sighed, but she was still smiling. “I know,” she said.   
Rena decided to change the subject. “How’s Jaim?” she demanded.   
“Jaim is… doing as well as he can,” Wynne said slowly. “He’s been made Warden-Commander of Ferelden and Arl of Amaranthine, have you heard?”   
“No!” Rena grinned. “That must irritate people, to have a mage as an Arl! But what do you mean, as well as he can?”  
Wynne shook her head. “During the blight, he got involved with an apostate,” she said. “After the battle with the archdemon, she left without a word. No one knows where she went, including Jaim.”   
Rena remembered the apostate that Wynne was speaking of. She had been with Jaim when he came back to the tower. Dark-haired, wild, and absolutely stunning, Jaim had hardly been able to keep his eyes off of her. If she had left him…   
Wynne nodded. “I can’t believe she would do something like this to him.” The bitterness in her voice startled Rena. “After all he sacrificed, he deserved better than that.”   
Rena didn’t quite know how to answer, but she was saved by a shout from the corner of the tent. Greagoir and a noble were glaring at each other, looking as if they were reading to kill.   
“Are you telling me that the mage escaped again?” Greagoir shouted.   
The buzz of conversation in the tent quieted, every mage pretending not to strain to hear what the conversation was about. Those two words- mage and escape- uttered in the same sentence were bound to draw the attention of any mage.   
The noble glared back at Greagoir, but Rena thought he didn’t have a chance against how intimidating Greagoir could be. “The blight was ravaging our lands, corpses were walking throughout the castle, and you expect us to keep control of a single mage who’s determined to escape? Especially when it seems like the Hero of Ferelden had a hand in it?”   
Rena suppressed a gasp. She knew who the escaped mage was now. Jowan was free again, then.   
“Jaim had a hand in it??” Greagoir’s explosion silenced the entire tent. “If I ever get my hands on that conniving…”   
“Knight-Commander!” Alistair’s voice cut through Greagoir’s tirade. “You’re not about to threaten one of my best friends and the Hero of Ferelden, are you?”   
Greagoir turned his glare onto Alistair, but he seemed to be backing down. “Your friend helped a known blood mage escape custody a second time!” he exclaimed.   
Alistair raised his hands in a placating gesture. “Come with me, Greagoir,” he said. “Maybe I can help explain things a little better.” The two of them started walking towards the entrance of the tent, Greagoir still stiff with anger.   
Speculation immediately broke out within the tent, the din of conversation much louder than it had been before. Rena looked around, trying to decide what her next move should be.   
Her breath caught in her throat as she saw the Templars near the back of the tent starting to follow their commander. She made her way towards the back, pretending to be heading for the food tables.   
No one noticed her as she reached the piles of food on the tables. She glanced casually along the tent until she found the seam in the wall.   
No one was looking. This was her chance.   
No one left to say goodbye to, she thought. Before she could lose her nerve, she grabbed the edge of the canvas. She slipped through and out into the night.   
The chill of the night air was the first thing that hit her as she stood with her back against the tent. The press of people inside had raised the temperature dramatically, and the chill was a welcome shock.   
I’ll be wishing for the warmth before this night is over, Rena thought, swallowing. Sometimes she doubted her chosen route. Wouldn’t it be easier to be like Wynne, respected by the Circle, and allowed to travel as well as being a Circle mage?   
The image of Evelyn lying naked on the floor instantly banished that thought from Rena’s mind. She would not stay here to become another Evelyn. She couldn’t.   
She stepped away from the tent and started to make her way towards the docks. She didn’t dare try and get Carroll to ferry her across, so she would have to follow Anders’ example and swim.   
She had known to swim, once. Even though she’d been born in the Denerim alienage, her parents had managed to take her and her brother to a small lake outside the city every so often. She hoped she still remembered how.   
Her brother… it had been a long time since she’d thought of Vael. She wondered what he was like now. If her parents were still alive. She doubted she would ever find out.   
She approached the water’s edge hesitantly. She had never been outside when the lake was so quiet. She’d always been watched outside, never left unsupervised. To have no one watching her was completely foreign.   
No turning back now, she thought. If they catch you now, the penalty for an attempted escape will be just as bad as for an actual escape.   
She didn’t have to imagine what the penalty would be. All she had to do was remember what they’d done to Anders every time they dragged him back. The lashes had been first, then the confinements. The last one had lasted a year…   
Without giving it any more thought, Rena waded into the water, flinching a little at the temperature. She was going to be free.


End file.
